I'm Alive
by hawkataine
Summary: The Avengers end up living in Stark Tower after Manhattan. Clint's still trying to come to terms with his actions under Loki's influence, but with Coulson gone and Natasha on a mission, he's finding it hard to cope. Which means it's all down to Tony. NO SLASH, rated for swearing. Less Clint-centric than the summary suggests. Please read and review! Formerly called Tribute.
1. Chapter 1

The Avengers sat around the greasy table in the shawarma restaurant. Tony stared at each of them in turn. Three days ago, the only one he'd known had been the Black Widow, and she had been posing as someone else. It was amazing how far they had come since then.

Thor, the demigod, to his right. Shovelling shawarma as though his life depended on it. Tony wondered what life was like on Asgard; it was certainly very different from Earth. Midgard. Home. Whatever you wanted to call it, Tony had lived here all his life - he couldn't begin to understand what it must be like for Thor, chasing his brother across the universe. He looked forward to educating the Asgardian about the joys of Earth. Coffee machines, for example.

Next to the Thunder God sat Captain America, Steve Rogers. Tony respected him as a just, smart and kind guy, and the battle had certainly proved that he was entirely unselfish. But Tony couldn't help but be annoyed at the war hero. Tony himself took risks and okay, maybe he was a little irresponsible now and then, but Spangles didn't seem to be prepared to do anything even remotely risky. Tony wasn't sure if he was completely happy taking orders from someone who had to think everything through three times before ignoring his instincts anyway. And who put him in charge anyway? Tony could sense that he was being biased; the buried resentment of the soldier was most likely sparked by his father's obsession with him and consequent neglect of his own son. But he was sure that he had a point. He just had to work out what it was.

Then came the infamous Black Widow. Tony trusted her about as far as he could throw her, but he admired her on the whole, no matter how much he tried to hide it. She had proven herself to be determined, adept and quick-witted, but Tony couldn't see past the front she was so skilled and practised at putting up, which was particularly irritating because there was no getting away from the fact that she intrigued him - especially her relationship with the man sitting next to her.

Which brought him to Hawkeye. Tony felt sure that he could list everything he knew about the archer in one breath. He was impressed by the man's skills with virtually every kind of projectile, but also his mental strength - God only knew what Loki had made him do. He knew Natasha, the two had a more-than-friendly relationship, he worked for SHIELD. Tony's knowledge (and lung capacity) ended there, and he burned to find out more. He was convinced that he had seen a dark sense of humour buried in Barton during the battle, and he was determined to bring it out.

And then there was Bruce Banner, on his left. Tony enjoyed the man's company, and was ecstatic to finally have contact with someone who (mostly) understood what he was on about. He respected Bruce's control over the Hulk, but he had resolved to get the other man to see what would happen if he gave the 'other guy' more freedom. Tony was certain that it would lighten Bruce's burden, and was determined to see his friend enjoying life again.

Yes, he supposed that they were a dysfunctional group, but they were a team, weren't they? They had just conquered an invading alien army. That, at least, was something to be proud of. But now they just looked exhausted, especially Barton, who was actually dozing in his chair, his legs propped on Romanoff's. Tony glanced sideways at Bruce, who was frowning at the archer, and at Thor, who was still guzzling shawarma. He felt Romanoff's gaze on him and looked up.  
"What?"  
"Nothing," she said, turning away.  
"Oh, come on," he groaned. Receiving no reply, he was about to pose a question of his own when Bruce spoke up.  
"Does he normally do this?" he asked Romanoff, nodding towards Barton.  
"What, work himself to death and crash out dramatically when I've got his back? Yes," she shrugged, poking the sleeping archer. "Doing that's not going to wake him up for three hours yet." She paused. Steve stared at her. Thor shovelled shawarma, oblivious. "Don't try it unless you want a knife in your stomach," she added as an afterthought.  
Bruce frowned again.  
"That can't be healthy, though."  
"It's okay, Doc. This is normal. He's not dead yet."  
Tony wondered what it said about the assassins' mentalities that 'healthy' meant 'doesn't directly cause death'.

"Uh, sorry, but does he normally do that?" Steve asked suddenly, indicating the sleeping agent, who had tensed and was shuddering slightly.  
Natasha swore in Russian, which Tony took to be a distinct 'no'. She grabbed her partner's wrist and murmured something softly to him. When this had no effect, she stood up and slapped him, hard, around the face. Everyone around the table winced, and Tony was aware of the waitress behind the counter staring at them.  
Barton cried out and sat up with a jolt, gasping.  
"Sshh Clint, it's okay," Natasha told him, sitting down again now that the crisis was averted. He took one look at the other around the table and buried his head in his hands.  
"Fuck," he groaned shakily. "Sorry."  
"Don't worry about it," Bruce reassured him. "We've all been through hell."  
"Certainly feels like it,"he grimaced, lifting his head slightly.  
"Is everyone finished?" Tony kicked Thor, who wiped his hands guiltily and pushed his plate away. "We should go."  
"Where to? Steve asked. "My flat's miles away."  
"Stark Tower," Tony said, rolling his eyes as though it were obvious. "I'll call some cars."  
"What, all of us?" Bruce frowned. "Fury might -"  
"Yes!" Tony said in exasperation, pulling out his miraculously undamaged Starkphone.  
"Uh, I don't do cars," Clint warned.  
Tony lowered the phone. "What?"  
"I'm fine driving, but, I dunno..." he trailed off. "I'm tired, it's not gonna end well."  
"Do not worry, young hawk; I too am not accustomed to these Midgardian wagons. Mjolnir has strength to carry us both," Thor volunteered.  
Tony did not miss the half-suspicious glance Clint threw the demi-god before nodding gratefully.  
_God, he doesn't trust any of us, does he, _Tony marvelled. _Except Widow.  
_"Fine. But this is not over," Tony said, selecting a number and pressing 'dial'. "Pepper? Yes, I know - I'm fine, quit worrying... What? That's not - don't be so - no, I didn't mean - never mind... Yeah, can you send a car? We're in the shawarma joint... thanks... Oh yeah, do you mind, uh," he did a quick head count, "five extra people overnight?... Yeah, I know... Uh, the Avengers... No! Don't even go there... cool." He hung up.

"Overnight?" Natasha raised an eyebrow.  
"Well, the Helicarrier's out of action, Capsicle's miles from his flat, Brucie's on the opposite side of the world and Goldilocks is on the wrong side of the universe. So, you know, it seemed okay to assume you'd need somewhere to stay. You're welcome for as long as you want."  
Clint scrutinised him with narrowed eyes, apparently cross-examining the offer in search of malicious intent. Tony waited, battling to keep the amusement off his face.  
"Uh, thanks, I guess," he said eventually. Tony tipped an imaginary hat to him.  
"You know, I was wrong about you," Steve said, looking at Tony. "You do care."  
"Save the semantics for when the press are here to record it, Capsicle," Tony sighed, although they could all tell he was touched.  
"Cars are outside," Bruce informed them, looking between Barton and Romanoff out of the window.  
"Come on then people," Tony said, standing up and heading for the door. Barton hobbled over to Thor.  
"See you in a minute," Natasha said. They left.  
"Mind my back, don't think the window agreed with it. But don't tell Tasha," Clint added hastily. "Where do I hold on?"  
Thor extended an arm.  
"Are you ready, young hawk?"  
"As I'll ever be. Mind the roof."

"So why doesn't he like cars?" Tony pestered. Steve and Bruce were having a rather more intelligent conversation next to him in the back, while he was leaning forward and attempting to poke Natasha through the headrest until she gave in.  
"Not my place to say. Why don't you ask him yourself, instead of coming to me?" she sighed. It was going to be a long car journey.  
"He might shoot me."  
"So could I."  
"Yeah, but I don't know him."  
"But you know me?"  
Tony considered this for a moment. "Fine, I give up."  
There were forty seconds of silence (yes, she timed) before he began again.  
"So what is it? An allergy? Bumpy ride? Claustrophobia?"  
"Only mildly."  
Tony stored that information as he continued. "Childhood trauma? Hulkophobia? A grudge?" he paused. "Starkophobia?"  
"Stark, even if it was one of those, I wouldn't tell you."  
"That means I was right, yeah?"  
She raised one eyebrow at him in the rearview mirror.  
"Can't you at least tell me if I'm close?"  
"If you want."  
Tony was taken aback by that answer. Then he saw Bruce trying to conceal his laughter.  
"Negatives, Tony," Bruce clarified. Tony thought that one over.  
"Hey!" he complained. "Not fair!"  
Natasha smiled.  
"Doesn't matter," he grumbled sulkily, slumping back and folding his arms. "I'll hack his file."  
"I thought you said you didn't want to get shot?"  
"Joking! Seriously!" Tony said, hastily changing the subject. "So is there anything we need to know about living with a couple of master assassins? However short-term it may turn out to be?"  
"Don't wake us up. Make JARVIS do it. That goes for all of you," she added, turning around, "even if it's an emergency. Speaking from experience here."  
"I'll bear that in mind," Bruce smiled.  
"Don't deprive me of coffee at whatever time counts as morning. If you hear a noise in the vents, it's probably Clint. If you hear a noise on the roof, it's probably Clint. JARVIS will get disconnected and/or sabotaged if you try to keep tabs on us. And then you won't be able to wake us up. Don't force us to be sociable, don't expect us to be nice, don't challenge us to poker or anything like that if you like being a billionaire. Don't get alarmed if we disappear. Don't play Truth or Dare if you value your reputation. Ignore us if we say we're fine. About Clint - he's been withdrawn from active service until the SHIELD psyches can sniff him over. I haven't - I'm going to be out on missions a lot. With Phil gone, I need someone to keep an eye on him. That falls to you lot."  
"Wait - has anyone told him about Coulson yet?" Steve said suddenly.  
Natasha swore in Russian.

**A/N This is going to basically be a compilation of pretty much unrelated events mapping out the build up of friendship between Clint and the other Avengers, especially Tony. I've got a few ideas, but if you have any situations you really want to see them in, drop me a line and I'll see what I can do :)  
Please tell me what you think of this first chapter, especially Natasha in it. I'm sorry if she comes across a bit OCC - I find her the hardest to do, which is partly why I'm shipping her off on SHIELD missions later XD  
About updates - Not sure exactly when I'll be able to update, because I haven't got much of the rest of it written atm. Keep an eye out though ;)****  
Go on. The review button beckons.  
Hawk :D**


	2. Chapter 2

"Thor, have you met Pepper?"  
"I have not been introduced to the Lady Pepper, no."  
"And Stark isn't here yet?"  
"His transport has not yet arrived."  
"Well, this is gonna be awkward," Clint muttered as they landed on the roof of Stark Tower. He staggered a little as his leg gave out, but caught himself just in time. "How d'you reckon we get in?" he asked, more to distract Thor, who was wearing a mildly concerned frown, than to receive a response.  
"I do not know. Perhaps we should call -"  
Thor stopped abruptly as the area they were standing on let out a hiss and began to sink.  
"Welcome, Thor Odinson and Agent Barton. When we reach floor 92, please take a seat to the left -"  
"Declare yourself!" Thor boomed at the disembodied voice. He started to whirl his hammer.  
"Woah, big guy," Clint said, keen to prevent disaster.  
"My apologies, Mr. Odinson. I am JARVIS, Mr. Stark's first Artificial Intelligence. Or his computerised butler, as he likes to call me."  
Clint winced as a burst of pain shot through his back.  
"Okay, fine, whatever. Back a bit. What were you saying? About sitting down?"  
If Clint didn't know better, he would swear that the AI sounded faintly amused.  
"Take a seat on the left. Ms. Potts will be with you shortly."  
Their platform slid to a halt and lift doors in front of them opened. Looking up, Clint realised that he and Thor had in fact just come down a lift shaft. Trust Stark to use open-top lifts. This one didn't even have walls.

Thor seemed eager to have his feet planted on solid, immobile ground again; he stepped off the lifty-platform thing quickly and set Mjolnir down. Clint, obedient as he was, made straight for the couch on the left and sank into it gratefully, swinging his boots onto the other end. Stark was a billionaire, he reasoned. One ruined sofa wouldn't bother him. He took in the gleaming bar at one end of the room, stocked with what were presumably the most over-priced - _sorry, exquisite _- beers and wines you could find, right across to the fish tank built into the wall at the other end.  
_Yup. No bother at all.__  
_The couch was stupendously comfy, a fact which was not helping his stay-awake-'till-Tasha-gets-here campaign. He wondered what was taking them so long, before realising that the invasion attempt had probably caused a few traffic jams and abandoning that train of thought.  
Clint was conscious that he was directing his thoughts down harmless routes, deliberately avoiding recent events. No doubt Natasha was going to make him go through it all again later, followed by Coulson and then the SHIELD psyches. Better to savour relative sanity while he had the chance.

Doors swung open at the bar end of the room, admitting a woman with strawberry-blonde hair who he could only assume was Pepper. He took his boots off the couch guiltily and stood up, ignoring his back's protestations. Pepper stopped, perhaps mildly surprised to see him there as well as Thor, but before she could say anything the demigod had knelt before her.  
"Lady Pepper," he began. "I am Thor Odinson, friend of Tony Stark, who has offered me a room here for the night."  
To her credit, Pepper took the unusual greeting in her stride; she even looked slightly flattered.  
"Thor, you're welcome here as long as you want," she smiled.  
"You are too kind," Thor replied, rising back to his full height. Clint thought he should probably say something.  
"Clint Barton," he said, sticking out a hand. "I work for SHIELD."  
Pepper shook his hand and indicated the bow and quiver which he'd dumped by the sofa.  
"Hawkeye?"  
Clint shrugged. "Yeah."  
"I assumed you'd be with Tony and the others."  
Clint looked away, nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. There was a moment's silence.  
"Was anyone hurt?" Pepper asked, sensing that she'd said something wrong.  
"Battalions of my brother's army, and his pride," Thor grinned proudly. "No more."  
_And my goddamn back, _Clint mentally amended.  
JARVIS suddenly spoke up. "Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark has arrived with Ms. Romanoff, Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner."  
"Tony!" Pepper breathed. She spun around and went out of the doors she had come in by. Thor glanced at Clint, as if awaiting permission to follow her. Clint ignored him, scooped up his stuff and led the way out.

He headed for the lift outside the room. This one looked more or less normal, and presumably served the rest of the tower while the other one went to the roof. Jabbing the button, Clint realised that it would take some time for the lift to ferry Pepper to the bottom and come back up for him. Sure, there were stairs that he could probably have vaulted down, but with his back playing up and not having slept in an age he decided against it and instead took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. Floor to ceiling glass ran across the wall opposite the lift. Clint walked over to it, unable to resist its lure. They were ridiculously high up but the view was definitely worth it. Office blocks shrank beneath the sheer scale of the Tower, and you could just make out the familiar yellow cabs, fire engines and ambulances trying to make their way through the wreckage below. It was clear from up here just how much of New York they had accidentally destroyed in their bid to get rid of Loki and his army. He wondered who was going to pay for it all.

The lift _dinged _behind him and he turned away from the window reluctantly. No doubt he'd be back here more than once in the next few weeks. Thor followed him into the lift, humming happily as Clint pushed the button marked 'G'.  
Clint wondered idly what time it was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept - unless being knocked out by Tasha counted, or practically passing out in the shawarma joint - and it was beginning to show. As a sniper, he was somewhat used to not sleeping for days, but after that he generally crashed out for at least twenty hours. Somehow he doubted that he'd get more than four for a while. Still, there were a demi-god and a super soldier in the house now. At least they'd have no trouble carrying him to a couch.

**A/N Wow! I can't believe how much support this has got already! THANK YOU :D Especially to Sandy-wmd and ELOSHAZZY for the reviews. Keep 'em coming people ;)****  
****This chapter is a bit shorter than the first one, but I had to cut it in half because it was getting waaay too long (which is why not much happened). Given that I've already written it now, I might consider posting the next one later today if we get enough reviews (hint, hint).**

**Hawk :D**


	3. Chapter 3

The car eventually pulled up outside Stark Tower and they all piled out. Natasha escaped the revolving doors and arrived in reception, where a girl was on the phone behind the polished desk.  
"JARVIS, tell Pepper we're here," Stark commanded the AI.  
"As you wish, sir," JARVIS replied. Natasha watched Steve jump about four feet into the air.  
"Who said that?" he asked, alarmed.  
"My AI, JARVIS. He's like a talking computer built into the Tower," Tony explained dismissively. Seeing that Steve was still looking confused, he added, "Think of him as a computerised butler."

There was a sudden cry of 'Tony!' as the lift at the end of the room released Pepper into their midst.  
"Hey, Pep," Tony beamed. Pepper slapped him.  
"Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Tony, you were fighting aliens!"  
"I noticed," the billionaire muttered, rubbing his jaw. Pepper ignored him.  
"And I missed your call and couldn't get through again, and the next thing I see on the news is you flying into a portal to another universe or something! And then you phone, not to apologise, but to tell me to _send a car?_"  
Natasha reflected, not for the first time, that Pepper did a strikingly good impression of Molly Weasley.  
"Excuse me, ma'am – it's not my place to say, but – well, Mr. Stark did just help save the world," Steve interjected, looking slightly alarmed at the shrieking woman in front of him. Apparently women didn't throw hissy fits back in the day. Tony shrugged, lifting one eyebrow as if to say, 'It's all true, you know. Impressive, huh?'  
"Of course..." Pepper trailed off, looking flustered at being chastised by the very model of etiquette himself.  
"Bruce Banner," Bruce said, offering Pepper his hand, which she shook.  
"Steve Rogers, ma'am. Captain America," Steve bowed his head.  
"Natasha Romanoff," Natasha smiled when she saw the flash of recognition in the other woman's eyes, but said nothing. "Have you seen Hawkeye and Thor yet? They should have arrived by now."  
"Oh, yes. They were on the top floor, last time I saw them," Pepper said.

As if on cue, the lift doors slid open once more and Clint stumbled out, followed by Thor, who looked awestruck.  
"Man of Iron, what magic is it that allows that room to create others before it?" Thor exclaimed.  
"Uh, that would be electricity, Point Break," Tony grinned. "Come on, I'll give you the full tour."  
Clint groaned. "Stark, I haven't slept in about four days."  
Natasha looked up sharply and saw her partner, properly, for the first time since getting him back. She hadn't realised that Loki hadn't even let him sleep, although now she supposed that he would've used magic to sustain his borrowed army. Judging by the way he moved, Clint had a back injury, and he was limping ever so slightly too. He was pale and he looked ready to pass out at any moment. Natasha silently berated herself for not noticing sooner.  
"You look like shit," she told him in Russian as he came to stand beside her. He smiled wearily but said nothing, which worried her even more; he was normally almost as bad as Stark when it came to witty comments.  
"Oh god, now they've got their own secret language," Stark complained, as if to prove her point.  
"It's Russian," she snapped back.  
Sensing an argument brewing, Pepper stepped in.  
"I've got some of the guest rooms ready for you," she offered. "If you want to stay here on a more permanent basis, feel free to decorate them how you like, but for now it's the best I could come up with at short notice. If there are problems, just ask JARVIS."  
"I shall be glad to help," JARVIS said. Steve only jumped two feet this time.  
_He's adapting already, _Natasha thought, smirking.  
"I've got a video conference in ten minutes, so I'll leave you to it," Pepper smiled.

Tony led them to a corridor with five guest rooms next to each other. Well, he called them guest rooms. Each of them sported a king-size bed, an en-suite bathroom and a flat screen television.  
_Almost as good as SHIELD's finest,_ Clint thought, remembering the bunks back on the Helicarrier, where he had shared a room with three other guys. All of whom snored.  
He was allocated the room on the end, closest to the stairs. Natasha was next to him, with Steve on her other side, followed by Thor and then Bruce. Clint went in, ready to collapse onto bed, only to find a pile of clothes on his pillows, all in his size.  
_Well, that's not creepy at all.  
_Looking through he found a grey vest and shorts, boxers, red t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Clint wondered how Pepper had managed to find them all clothes in the five minutes between Tony calling her and their arrival. Stark must've planned to bring them back to his Tower since even before the battle. And of course he'd probably hacked something at SHIELD to get their sizes.  
Clint realised that he probably had to get changed, given that Pepper had gone to so much trouble to buy them outfits. Sighing, he picked up the pile and headed for the bathroom. Minutes later, he stood in the shower with his eyes shut, letting the water wash away the dirt and blood that had accumulated over the last few days. The warmth dulled the pain in his back, and he considered staying there before deciding that sleep was more important. He shut off the water, got changed and finally collapsed onto the bed.

_He saw their faces, swimming in a pool of blood, his arrows sticking out of them, yet he could not bring himself to care. Kicking one out of the way, he strode confidently towards his Leader. A man knelt before Him, his face obscured by a black cloth over his head.  
"I have one task left for you," his Leader said. He nodded, grabbed the man's head and twisted it sharply, but it was only as the body fell that the cloth fluttered off and he saw who the man had been –_

Clint was woken up by his own screams. He rolled over and retched into his hands, shaking and far too hot.  
"This is becoming a habit, Barton," Natasha said, walking in. She was only half-joking.  
"Nat," Clint managed, too exhausted for anything more.  
"You okay?" she asked. The concern was evident in her eyes.  
"I don't know about okay, but I guess I'll survive," Clint grimaced.  
"Do you want to talk?" She wasn't going to let him shut her out that easily. Not when he was so obviously hurting.  
Clint laid his head in his hands.  
"Why do I remember?" he asked quietly. She had no answer for him. "I knew those people, they trusted me."  
"Don't do this to yourself." She laid a hand on his leg. "It was Loki, not you. Never you."  
"But they were my arrows, weren't they? My hands, my bow." He let out a hollow laugh that chilled her to the bone. "My ledger."  
"It's not your fault. It could have been any of us."  
"What if I'd – What if you'd been –"  
"I'd like to see you try," she said, cutting him off before he could say it. "Get cleaned up. I'll stay here for a while."  
"Thanks, Nat," he said, vanishing into the bathroom. Moments later she heard the splash of running water.

There was a loud thump at the door. Natasha sprang to her feet and sank easily into a defensive stance.  
"Agent Barton? Are you okay?" Steve called through the door. Natasha relaxed and opened it. "Miss Romanoff?" Steve looked surprised to see her there, and immediately became awkward. "It's fine, sorry. I thought I heard – but obviously – I'll just leave you to it."  
Natasha tried to stop herself from laughing at poor Steve's bright red expression.  
"No, don't worry. Clint just woke up."  
Steve picked up on that one unexpectedly quickly.  
"Oh," he said with concern. "Well, is he all right now?"  
"He should be. You don't have to stay."  
Clint chose that moment to reappear, wiping his face with a towel.  
"Oh, uh, Cap," he said self-consciously. "I didn't wake you up, right?"  
"I'm a light sleeper. It's fine, though, I don't mind. I've had a lifetime of sleep," Steve smiled. "Are you okay?"  
"Uh, yeah. Fine," Clint grimaced. "Sorry about that."  
"Don't be," the soldier said seriously. "No matter what Tony says in the morning. I'll see you later."  
Clint watched his retreating back until Natasha closed the door.  
"They care about you, Clint."  
He didn't reply.

**A/N Third chapter, as promised. I apologise to any Steve fans out there - no matter how hard I try, I can't write him seriously...  
Thanks to all my reviewers for the last chapter :)**

**EDIT 25/8/13 (Yes, I'm a Brit)  
****So I was reading this through and I found a load of mistakes in the first chapter, which I've fixed now. I've got about half the fourth chapter written atm, but before I post it I would really like to find a beta, because (judging by reviews) it's the chapter you've all been waiting for, and I don't want to screw it up. So basically, I don't know how long it will be. Sorry :/ If you know of anyone who might want to beta for me, please drop me a line.  
Thanks :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Having managed about three hours of sleep the night before, Clint was not especially overjoyed to find out that Fury wanted them in for a debrief at 0900 hours.  
"Who does he think he is?" Stark was complaining loudly.  
"Director of one of the most powerful organisations in the world, probably," Steve supplied helpfully, earning himself a personalised Starkglare.  
"I'm supposed to be their consultant! You know, the one they come to for advice! How come he gets to order me around?"

Clint gave up and tuned them out, concentrating instead on the steady hum of the quinjet that had been sent to pick them up. It was strangely soothing, even if it was taking him to the last place he wanted to be right now. Banner had already succumbed to its powers; the doctor was snoring quietly in the corner, glasses askew and completely oblivious to the heated discussion going on around him. Naturally, Natasha had known from the start that a journey with such big egos in the same place was bound for disaster, which was probably partly why she was currently in the co-pilot chair at the front of the jet.

Clint just had time to be envious of her powers of foresight before Stark was trying to get his attention.  
"Hey, Feathers."  
Clint inwardly debated whether to answer before realising that the billionaire wasn't going to give up asking. Reluctantly, he forced his tired brain into gear.  
"What, Stark?"  
"Were you the one making all the noise last night? Or, you know, this morning or whatever? Because I was worried that something might've been trapped in the air vents..."  
Clint's stomach dropped, and he immediately wished that he hadn't bothered responding. He swallowed, not missing the sharp look that Steve shot at Stark and feeling a strange surge of gratitude towards the super soldier that he couldn't quite place.  
"Yeah, probably me," he replied, trying to keep his voice even. "Not exactly a, uh, high point for me right now."  
Thor looked up sharply. "What my brother did was wrong, and it brings me great sorrow that he would stoop so low." Seeing the look on the archer's face, he continued in a softer tone. "Do not think that any of what transpired was your fault. You proved your worth in the battle against Loki; your resilience is as high as any Asgardian's."  
Clint shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with all the unwanted attention and arguably undeserved sympathy when he was still trying to work out where he stood on the matter himself. "Look, can we just -"  
"Hey, don't sweat it," Stark interrupted. "Don't expect it's a high point for any of us right now. Look, uh, if there's anything you want, just tell JARVIS, yeah?  
Clint frowned.  
"When did you go all charitable, Stark?"  
"...I think I resent that. I'm a registered philanthropist. It's practically in the job description."

Clint grinned and shook his head, glad for the shift in focus. He hated attracting attention at the best of times, never mind when he was running on empty with his guard down. Thor didn't seem entirely satisfied that he had made his point, but he didn't continue with his speech, something that was probably due to the warning glares that Rogers kept shooting his way. Even a man from another world couldn't misinterpret Captain America's death stare.

Clint slept through the majority of the debrief, and for once Fury didn't swear to banish him to Canada. He wasn't sure what to make of that, so he gave up trying to figure out the motivation behind it and took the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed doze time. When Hill strutted in about halfway through, he found himself wondering when Phil would put in an appearance, but he pushed the thought aside as easily as it had come. No doubt his handler was pretending to supervise clean-up while watching Supernanny and drinking coffee, smirking annoyingly to himself at managing to avoid the debrief. Again.

Natasha nudged him awake at the end of the lecture and he yawned and followed the others out of the door. Stark was complaining loudly about something to Banner, and Steve and Thor were up ahead.

Agent Sitwell suddenly rounded the corner and thrust a thick document into Natasha's hands.  
"New mission brief for you, Agent Romanoff," he said. "Peru. Your flight leaves at 1600 hours."  
"Since when were you Phil's dogsbody, Sitwell?" Clint frowned. His handler didn't normally trust someone else to carry the coffee, let alone with highly confidential mission documents for his agents. When no-one answered him, he turned to his partner to back him up.

One look at Natasha told him all he needed to know. He stopped in his tracks, stared at the others in the distant hope that one of them would deny it, but nothing came. Banner apparently thought better of saying something and snapped his mouth shut, pity evident in his brown eyes.

"Fuck," Clint choked as the weight of the realisation crashed over him. He had to get out of there; he turned and ran, his worn boots automatically carrying him through the familiar corridors. He didn't bother checking where he was going; the only thing that mattered was putting as much distance between him and them as possible. Natasha called his name, but he didn't stop. If she wanted to talk to him, she could damn well come and find him.

He finally stopped running. He'd subconsciously carried himself to the rafters of the gym, where no one would be able to reach him. He didn't want to talk to people who pretended to care - hell, he wasn't even sure that he wanted to talk to Nat.

_Phil._

He couldn't be gone. He'd been in so many worse situations, but Coulson always pulled through, no matter the odds. No matter how far south Clint's missions went, he knew that there would be someone to force the IV into his arm at the other end, to keep him drugged up with coffee and God knew what else, to stop him killing himself by escaping hospital at stupid-hour in the morning. Watching Supernanny and Lord of the Rings marathons. Ganging up on Nat. Pranking Fury. A voice in his ear, pushing him on regardless of just how badly he'd fucked up, making sure he knew that there was someone out there who actually gave half a shit about bringing him home in one piece. The guy was the father he'd never known, the brother who'd abandoned him and the best friend he'd never had, all rolled into one.

And now he was gone, most likely in an attack that Clint himself had lead. The sheer guilt was crippling. Clint curled into a ball on the beam, his arms wrapped around his stomach and his head burying into his knees. The tears slid silently down his face.

He realised with a pang that he hadn't even bothered to find out if Coulson had made it through Manhattan unscathed, hadn't even spared his handler a passing thought.

Coulson would never have let him down like this.

That was how Natasha found him, ten minutes later. He wished she'd taken ten hours, to give him time to pull himself together. He'd already ruined his chances of becoming a real member of the team; even if they decided he wasn't culpable for what he'd done at Loki's command, they wouldn't want a mentally unstable sniper anywhere near something like the Avengers Initiative. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd be kicked out of SHIELD within the week, too. The agency had taken him in when his life had reached an all-time low, and he would be forever indebted to them, but he had killed the one man who had pushed for his second chance at life, and he couldn't hide from the repercussions.

Still, he supposed he was used to life on the run.

He was vaguely aware of Natasha's arm around his shoulders, her hand on his leg. The contact grounded him in the present.  
"Clint," she was saying. "I'm so sorry."  
Before he knew quite what he was doing, he had leapt to his feet and was poised at the opposite end of the beam to her. She stared at him in confusion.  
"Why didn't you tell me, Natasha?" he snarled. "This is _Phil!_"  
"There wasn't - it never seemed -"  
"Fuck it, Tasha! You think I'd have preferred it from someone else?"  
"Clint -"  
"Couldn't face telling me yourself?" He was yelling now, ignoring the junior agents training in the gym below. Nothing mattered anymore.  
"_Clint _-"  
"And now you're fucking off to Peru, you're just gonna fucking leave me here to deal with it?"  
Her expression darkened immediately, shutting her off from him and clouding her eyes with the fury normally reserved for particularly foul marks.

"You know I would never."

She leapt gracefully from the beam and touched down on the floor before stalking out of the gym doors with a bang. The junior agents stared after her, before turning to gaze up into the rafters.

Clint flopped back down, shaking, and buried his face in his hands, silently cursing himself for _everything_.

And maybe, if he'd been thinking straight, he would have noticed the single tear that had leaked from her eye.

**A/N I'm back, and I'm **beta **than ever! (Feel free to stick an arrow in my eye socket for that one. Virtually, of course :/) Anyway, yeah, betas. You've all got the fantastically incredible MountainRose to thank for the fact that this fic is alive again!**

**Thank you to anyone who is still reading this - you people are amazing, and I'm sorry about the wait... school happened.**

**And yeah, I changed the title. I discovered the Avengers Assemble CD and it kind of spiralled from there. Go listen to it - I'm Alive by Shinedown. The plot I called Tribute has evapourated in the face of the new improved version, as I may have originally have been planning to heartlessly slaughter a few people... But fear not! No-one dies in this one! (Well, I don't intend to kill them at the moment, anyway...)**

**This is turning into a really long A/N...**

**ALSO. I realised that I lied to you guys in the first chapter. This is not a collection of semi-related one-shots - it now has a fairly continuous plot line, and I have plans for a load of sequels and stuff too.**

**Who's looking forward to Agents of SHIELD? No spoilers please, you annoyingly lucky Americans who get to see it a whole THREE DAYS before us. (Life changing, that wait is...)**

**Hawk :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Tony glared at Fury from his seat. The director seemed utterly unfazed by his efforts, however, so after a while he gave up and resorted to verbal confrontation.  
"You want them all to come and live with me?" he asked incredulously.  
"I was under the impression that you had already given them that option," Fury replied with an annoyingly even tone. Seriously, what did he have to do to crack that façade? Was it even possible?  
"It's a good idea. The Avengers need to be in one place, in case something like this happens again," Steve added. Tony resisted the urge to kick him under the table.  
"Yeah? Well, now I'm having second thoughts," he snapped, glancing sideways at Rogers. "Isn't there a law or something about this? You know, 'thou shalt not rent out other people's skyscrapers without asking nicely' kind of thing? Aren't you theologically compelled to listen to me?"  
Fury sighed. "Believe me, Stark. You will know when I have finished asking nicely."

It wasn't so much the idea that he was opposed to, more the fact that Fury had got there first. There was a big difference between generously granting your friends accommodation in your tower out of the goodness of your heart, and grudgingly allowing your teammates' invasion because the scary man told you to. He hadn't felt much towards anyone in so long, and The Battle had proved to him that Pepper had been right all along: he needed more people around him than just her and Rhodey (and JARVIS, but _apparently_ he didn't count). Something had clicked when they had stood all together at last, staring up at the massive wormhole in the sky and knowing that, if they failed, their world would be obliterated. Maybe he was just going soft and sentimental, but it seemed like the kind of thing that brought people together.

Because, in the end, they were the only ones who would understand. They needed to be kept together, for their own good as well as the planet's. Tony glanced sideways at the others. Thor was looking expectantly between him and Fury, and he was all too aware of Rogers trying to will him into submission on his right. Bruce was twisting his hands in his lap, evidently preoccupied with his own inner turmoil. Romanoff was looking decidedly disinterested, while Barton was actually asleep on the table. None of them would survive on their own after this - hell, he was already harbouring suspicions that the super-secret ninja assassins were Siamese twins or something. And there was no way that he was going to let Bruce turn down the tech in his Tower for _Calcutta_.

"Stark?" If he didn't know better, he would swear that the guy sounded _amused_.  
"Hey, Patch, slow down. Life changing decision happening here."  
"_This _is the life changing part?" Bruce asked sceptically, finally looking up. Tony flapped a hand at him in a vague attempt at making him shut up. Bruce snorted.  
"I do not understand. Who is this 'Patch' of whom you -"  
"Fine," Stark said, more to stop Thor from asking inane questions than because he had figured out what to do next. "Bruce, do you want to come live in Stark Tower?"  
Bruce looked slightly taken aback. "If you're sure… about having a, uh, 'giant green rage monster' living in your house, that is…" he grimaced. "And if SHIELD can keep Ross off my back. I was doing a fairly good job of hiding, in Calcutta…"  
"That can be arranged," Fury nodded, not bothering to hide his smirk this time.  
"Good. Next. Capsicle?"  
Rogers met Tony's gaze. "I'm in. If you're offering, that is."  
Tony narrowed his eyes at the super soldier, recognising that Rogers knew exactly what he was trying to do.  
"Yup, this is definitely me offering," he said. "Point Break?"  
"I do not wish to be a burden onto the House of Stark, however I feel that I must accept your kind offer, as I have no other Midgardian dwelling to inhabit during my time here," Thor said slowly, appearing troubled.  
"Not a problem," Tony said, feeling pleased at how affable he was managing to be. Pepper would be proud - that was, if she could get over the small, inconsequential fact that he'd invited his ridiculously unstable team (read 'time bomb') to stay in her house. Permanently. He wondered briefly how many microwaves would be sacrificed in their quest to team-build. "Romanoff, what about you?"  
The Black Widow looked at Fury, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and then at her partner, who was still sleeping on the table.  
"We're in."  
Tony nodded. "Well, that would seem to settle it, Fury. My team apparently want to come live with me."  
"I want everyone moved in within a week. I will make some quinjets available for you to transfer your belongings with. We don't know that the Chitauri won't find another way to get that wormhole open again, and if that happens I need to know where my response team are."  
"Yessir," Tony muttered.  
"I heard that, Stark. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and convince the Council that they don't need to nuke Manhattan anymore. You're all dismissed." Fury got up to leave, but paused in the doorway and sighed exasperatedly. "And someone tell Barton."

* * *

"If you don't want me to stay, I'll understand," Bruce said quietly afterwards, as they were walking through the corridors of the Helicarrier in search of a quinjet to take them back to the Tower. "If it was me, I wouldn't want me around either."  
Tony paused in mock contemplation. "And why would that be?"  
Bruce achieved an impressive feat of face contortion which involved simultaneously raising one eyebrow and frowning. Tony sighed.  
"It's not exactly like your alter ego is much of a state secret. Believe me, Brucie, I know what I'm letting myself in for. Besides, don't you think I have bigger things to worry about? Like having a Norse god and an ancient relic around my 22nd century tech?"  
"I heard that," Rogers called from behind them.  
"That was the point." Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Some people..."  
Before he could get any further with insulting the national icon, however, a vaguely familiar SHIELD agent barged past him.  
"Hey!" Tony stopped and turned around to confront his attacker, but the agent was busy brandishing a heavy-looking document at Romanoff, who accepted it with a sigh and began to leaf through it.  
"New mission brief for you, Agent Romanoff," he said. "Peru. Your flight leaves at 1600 hours."  
Tony was still trying to work out where he'd seen the agent before when Barton interrupted his thought process.  
"Since when were you Phil's dogsbody, Sitwell?" he asked suspiciously.  
_Sitwell. Knew it began with an 's'.  
_Then he realised what Barton had said.  
_And now there's that._

Bruce tensed beside him, and he could practically hear Rogers' ancient brain whirring. Thor looked dismayed, and the assassins - well, before he had time to analyse their expressions Barton was gone. Romanoff turned to go after him but Thor placed a strong hand on her arm, effectively restraining her. She snarled up at the demigod, who remained unmoving.  
"He should not be denied his grief," Thor told her gravely. They all stared in the direction the archer had left.  
"He didn't know?" Sitwell murmured incredulously. Romanoff rounded on him, shooting him a death glare and smacking the file back at his chest. Sitwell took the hint and left. Quickly.

Tony stood aside to let him pass and crossed his arms.  
"He's got a point. What the hell happened to the super-secret ninja-assassin telepathy?"  
Romanoff glared at him. "It wasn't the right time."  
Tony snorted. Bruce seemed to share his sentiments.  
"Would it honestly ever have been the 'right time'? To tell _anyone _something like that?" Bruce asked, enough hostility in his tone to show everyone present what the Hulk thought of the situation. Tony sensed Romanoff's flinch from three metres away.  
"It's been less than 24 hours since he got Loki out of his head," Rogers defended. "He can't have been unaffected by that. Can you genuinely say that you would have trusted him to take the knowledge the right way?"  
"What do you define as being the _wrong_ way, Rogers? Because to me, this seems pretty fucking close," Tony snapped.  
"What would you have done, Stark? Told him straight after he woke up again? Told him while we were fighting off _aliens_? Before or after the nightmares?" Rogers snarled.  
"_Any _of those would have been better than this!" Tony yelled, sending a passing agent scrambling for cover. "I would have told him _before_ he came here to accidentally stumble across the facts himself!"  
He couldn't believe it. _Captain America_, arguing that having his team's archer AWOL was a _good idea_. And he'd thought that _he _was tactless.  
"We should be working to help our comrade, rather than bickering as if we had not yet seen ten winters between us," Thor snorted in disbelief. Rogers fell silent, but Tony wasn't finished yet and he rounded on the demigod.  
"Funny, because I don't see _you_ -"  
"Tony," Bruce interrupted quietly. "Natasha's gone."

**A/N So to start off, sorry this is so late. Life kind of happened. And I've also realised that I seem to be starting virtually every update by apologising for being useless, so consider this to be a blanket apology. From here on out, I give up on structured updates *cue dramatic music*.**

**Anyway... Thanks to MountainRose, my incredible beta, without whom this last chapter would have crashed, burned and died. Equally huge thanks to Sandy-wmd and cdewinter78 for the reviews to the last chapter - glad to know I'm not posting into a void ;) Speaking of which - what happened to the rest of you? Seriously? I give you the chapter you've all been waiting for, and I get 2 reviews. Out of all you 43 followers. I give up.**

**Joking, I love you all really...**

**So yeah... what's happening next? We'll be saying goodbye to Thor and Loki - for a while, at least. That may come next or it may come in the one after - I haven't quite decided what's going on yet. It's the next major plot point, anyway.**

**Hawk :D**


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